Being swamped with schoolwork and exams offered me a perfect excuse not to see Jackson after I texted him that I saw him going into a bar with his friends. Maybe I was a coward, but seeing him would mean talking about that night and everything that wasn't working in our relationship. I had a feeling that conversation wouldn't go well, and I'd have kept putting it off if he wasn't waiting for me outside my university building after my last exam.

“Hi.” Jackson leaned in and kissed my cheek. “How's it going? How was the test?”

“Great,” I said. “How was yours?”

“Not bad. Have you got time for coffee?”

No excuse would be good enough now, and I didn't want to postpone the inevitable. “Sure,” I said, adjusting the strap of my purse on my shoulder. “Any place in mind?”

Jackson nodded. “Let's go.”

I expected him to tell me about his classes and friends on our way to Coffee Time, a cozy coffee shop on campus, but he was uncharacteristically quiet. When we sat at a table by the window with our cappuccinos in front of us, Jackson rubbed his face with his palms.

“Ivy.”

“What?”

“I…” He blew out a long breath as if he needed a moment to put his thoughts into words. “I'm sorry, okay? I'm not stupid; I know I messed up. The club where you met those band guys was across the street from the bar I went to with my friends that night. I didn't plan on it, and I'd never cheat on you; that's not why we went there. Everyone was just burned out from studying, and when Sam suggested it, we didn’t think twice. I should've told you.”

His honesty was refreshing. It also took me off guard because now he did seem to care about me.

“Yeah, you should have.” I took a drink from my cup. “I know Rebellious Hearts isn’t your favorite band, but I wanted to introduce you to the girls. You could've made an effort like I did when I went out with your friends.”

Jackson toyed with his napkin. “I should have. Forgive me?”

Was this really happening? I observed Jackson, who sipped his coffee, occasionally glancing at me. His apology seemed genuine. Maybe we could make it work. People often idealized relationships, assuming the beginning was always perfect, but what if a rocky start led to something good?

“Fine,” I said. “Just don't lie to me again.”

Jackson nodded. “Want to come over? The guys are out; we'll be alone.”

My stomach churned uncomfortably. Alone meant sex. And it was the last thing I wanted even though Jackson apologized and everything seemed to be okay. 

I brought the cup to my mouth and took a sip to buy myself some time. As I put it on a saucer, my phone vibrated in my purse. 

“Give me a moment,” I said, fishing it out. Isla’s smiling face was on the screen. I accepted the call. “Hello?”

“Ivy.”

Isla sounded weird. Her voice was weak, and the sniffling on the other end of the line made me straighten and grip the edge of the table as if my body knew something awful happened before Isla had a chance to say it herself.

“Isla? What's wrong?”

“Rose…” Isla sobbed. “She’s…she's gone, Ivy. I'm at the hospital. Ava's dad is here, and I need to tell Ava, but I wanted to call you first.”

Air vacated my lungs. Rose couldn't be gone. She was waiting for a heart transplant, and Isla needed her foster mom because she had nobody else. There must've been a mistake. 

But Isla kept crying, and tears gathered in my eyes at the realization that the worst had really happened and Isla wouldn't yell that she was kidding and Rose was alive and well.

“Oh my God,” I whispered, covering my mouth with my palm. 

Jackson raised his brows. I held my hand up, asking him to give me a minute. To Isla, I said, “You're at Harris Memorial, right?”

“Yes,” she answered, sounding a bit calmer. 

“I'll be there soon. I'll call you when I get there.”

Isla thanked me and hung up. 

Jackson jerked his chin up. “What's going on?”

“My friend's foster mom died,” I said. “I need to go to the hospital.”

“I'd take you,” Jackson said, “but I took the bus here. Maybe call an Uber?”

I did, and five minutes later, the car arrived. Jackson kissed my cheek. “See you tomorrow?”

I expected him to go with me, or at least to offer to do so, but he clearly had no intention of getting in the car, and it made me both sad and disappointed. He didn't know Isla, but she was my friend, and there were lots of things we could help her with. 

“I don't know about tomorrow,” I said. “It depends on what Isla is going to do. She didn't say anything about the funeral yet.”

“I hate those things.” Jackson slid his fingers through his hair. “Too depressing. Anyway, let me know when it's all over, and we'll hang out.”

Depressing wasn't the right word to describe the situation, but saying something to Jackson was probably pointless. Besides, Isla was waiting. He chose not to accompany me, and I wouldn't waste time hoping he'd change his mind. 

“I will. Bye,” I said. 

On the ride to Harris Memorial, I stared at the passing cars through the window, trying to collect myself so I could be the support Isla needed. She texted me where to find her, and I wrapped her in my arms as soon as I entered the waiting room with vinyl covered couches and a small round table in the middle.

“I'm so sorry,” I whispered.

Isla squeezed me tighter. “Thank you. You didn't have to come here so fast. I would've waited.”

I smoothed a hand down her hair. “Don't be silly. I also called my parents. They'll be here soon, and you're going home with us. You shouldn't be alone tonight.”

Isla wiped her tears with the sleeve of her hoodie. “Yeah. I know. Thank you.”

We sat on the couch, and barely a moment later, the door opened and Jim entered the room with Ava.

"I'm so sorry," she said, hugging Isla tightly.

Isla sniffled, giving her a small, forced smile. "Thank you, Ava."

"I'm sorry." Jim crouched in front of Isla. "Do you need anything? Coffee?"

"I've had enough caffeine not to sleep for a week, thank you," Isla said. "And thank you for being here, guys. It means a lot."

"What happened?" Ava asked, sitting by Isla's side on the couch while Jim lowered in an armchair and clasped his hands on his knees.

"Rose had a heart attack," Isla said. "Nothing could be done, and there was a DNR order."

The emotion on Isla’s face resembled guilt, but Rose was a grownup, and she cared about Isla so much she probably didn't want to burden her.

"It's not your fault," I said. "It was Rose's decision. You couldn't have done anything."

Isla nodded. "I know. I just hoped a heart would appear. I never thought I'd lose her like this."

Her slim shoulders shook as she buried her face in her palms. Jim sighed deeply, looking at us. "If you need help with anything, tell me."

Isla shook her head, pulling a tissue from the box on the end table by the couch. "Rose thought about everything. It's as if she knew it'd happen."

"What now?" Ava whispered.

"I'm staying at Ivy's," Isla said. "Her parents are on their way here. I'll take care of the rest of the things tomorrow. Please, thank your dad for me. He and doctor Jennings helped me a lot."

"I'm sorry I couldn't get here earlier." Ava stroked a hand down Isla's back. 

"Nothing to be sorry for. You and Ivy are here, and that's what matters."

Jim was here, too. I bet Ava didn't have to convince him to come with her, and he surely didn't call the situation depressing. Bitterness filled me. It was another sign that Jackson and I weren’t compatible. Maybe a rocky beginning meant a path filled with rocks in the future.

The door swung open, and my parents stepped inside.

"We're so sorry, Isla," my dad said. "Rose was a wonderful woman."

I made some space for Mom. She hugged Isla and rubbed her back, looking at me over Isla’s shoulder.

Mom was the one who told me Isla needed support and that she should stay with us for a few days. I wasn't lucky in love, but I had the best parents and friends, which was just as important.

***

The day of the burial was mockingly sunny, and when it was over, a tattooed guy who made strange things happen to my stomach stood by my side away from the small crowd that came to say goodbye to Rose.

I didn't expect the band guys would come after seeing Isla once, but they obviously thought their bandmate's girlfriend’s friends were theirs, too. 

“Losing someone sucks,” Jay said. “How are you holding up?”

My eyes met his concerned ones. “Me? I'm fine. Isla seems better, too.”

“That's good. But keep an eye on her just in case. People don't always let others see how they really feel.”

“Speaking from experience?”

Jay half-smiled. “Maybe. I'm a guy. My species is notorious for keeping feelings locked in dusty boxes in abandoned basements.”

I cracked a smile for the first time today. “Yeah. Your species is notorious for lots of things.”

“You shouldn't be alone, either, Ivy like the league.” Jay swept his eyes over the people huddled around Rose's grave as if he was looking for someone. 

I hugged myself, lowering my eyes to the grass. “I'm not alone.”

“If you say so. Well, it was nice seeing you. Take care.”

He gently squeezed my forearm and took off toward Finlay and Nick, and I returned to Isla’s side. 

Today wasn't about me. I'd think about everything later.